Intruder
by MyFrenzy
Summary: Hermione blinked. This was crazy. Fred and George had told her there was no possible way this could happen. And yet, she had just intervened in a Marauders' argument. Somewhere in 1976. RL/HG. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello. Alright, let me let you in on some things. This story is set on their sixth year, and not everything has happened yet. As you can see, the Christmas Holidays are only just about to happen, though that matters not. It's a bit changed. All has happened before Ginny and Harry's first kiss, pretty much. _

_Seeing as Remus/Hermione is one of my favorite couples, it is possible they will be a couple. Only possible, though. We'll see. In any case, this isn't a Time-Turner fic, it's one of thosee 'experiments gone wrong' fics. Some things will be cliche; some won't. _

_Review? _

_P.S; The story title is still in question._

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_Chapter One_

HERMIONE Granger pursed her lips as her brows furrowed deeper and deeper, the book set on her lap barely being held on the same page. She pushed some hair out of her face and behind her ear, scowling at the sky outside the castle of Hogwarts.

She heaved a large sigh and closed her book (she was re-reading, for about the fiftieth time, mind you, _Hogwarts, a History_) and finally gave up, giving a grunt and resting her head against the tree bark. She closed her eyes and let the annoying yet calming winter wind ruffle her already-frizzy hair and took several deep breaths, calming herself and letting her be unbothered by some annoying first-year gigglers close by or some annoying third year boys muttering about something or the other.

She permitted herself to stretch her arms—a small cracking noise was made and she smiled in satisfaction at the pleasure she experienced. Hermione let her mind drift away for a moment, for once not worrying about the book that was now closed and sitting on her lap (though, admittedly, she knew every single word by heart now) and thought about how all the past events had affected her mind and her physical state.

She wasn't the only one to notice—everyone (meaning Ron, Harry, and Ginny) had noticed that she was indeed turning paler nowadays and was less hungry—her head hurt most often and her concentration wasn't at her best and she was, considerably, slimmer than she had been the previous year—or even during the summer holidays, to say the truth. She didn't let the worrying comments of her peers bother her, though. Only she knew that Sirius's death had been the thing that had shaken her the most; that it was truly the reason why she had thinned so much and her smarts weren't as, well, smart as they usually were.

Her heart hurt at the memory of Sirius. Hermione's eyes closed even tighter than they had before and her fists were suddenly clenched. Though Hermione thought very surely Sirius was reckless all the same in his older age, she had grown very fond of him—he was, after all, always looking after Harry (whom Hermione knew very well reminded him of James himself, Harry's father) and no matter what, was genuinely proud of his godson. And that she had had criticized him for what seemed eternity made her throat close up all over again.

She was just about to (maybe, possibly) let a tear roll down her cheek when she jumped in surprise at a call of her name. She opened her eyes and looked around to find one of her best friends, Ron Weasley, staring down at her with a peculiar expression plastered on his face. Hermione frowned and raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Yes, Ron? Do you need anything?"

Ron kept looking at Hermione for a while longer, then he bit his lip and sat cross legged in front of her. "Well," he cleared his throat, and Hermione noticed how his voice quavered slightly. "I was wondering what you were planning to do for the holidays. You know," he smiled shakily. "Since they're so close."

Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes slightly narrowed as she stared at Ron.

Hermione knew she had more than friendly feeling towards Ron, and she thinks she'd always known that; but the fact that neither of them—her or Ron—had tried anything for six years of knowing each other didn't really get her hopes up to think that Ron maybe felt the same towards her. Though, looking back now, there were signs—the fact that Ron scowled every time she mentioned Viktor Krum (and yes, she still dared mention him, as she kept in contact with him nevertheless) Ron always spat something rude about the guy and Hermione stopped arguing over this, knowing Ron was just jealous. But was jealousy really as much as to say that Ron could feel anything strong enough towards her?

Hermione cleared her head of these thoughts and pursed her lips. "Well," she said after a moment of pretense contemplating. "I was thinking of spending the holidays with my parents, see," she said. "I do quite feel guilty about letting them down so much over the years that I at least owe them as much as spending Christmas with them, do I not?" Hermione looked expectantly at Ron, who looked as though he had just been punched.

"Er—yes, I suppose," he cleared his throat and looked down, his ears going scarlet red. Hermione bit back a smile at this gesture. "I was just wondering if—maybe—you'd, er, like to—uh, you know," he fidgeted with his hands. "Harry and I, well, we, er—" Ron did not once look up as he struggled to find the right words. Hermione, feeling sorry for her poor friend (recently labeled as crush, she supposed) decided to take over for him.

"Ron," Hermione interrupted, and Ron merely glanced at her before fixing his eyes back to his own hands. "I don't suppose you're trying to ask me to spend the holidays with you, your family, and Harry, do I?" She raised her eyebrows and waited patiently for an answer from Ron.

Ron shrugged and Hermione giggled. "Well, if you _were_ trying to ask that," Hermione continued nonchalantly. "I was planning on saying yes, but, seeing as you weren't, well—"

Ron's face immediately brightened and was raised to meet Hermione's eyes. Frantically, he interrupted Hermione mid sentence. "That's—that's wonderful news! Mum will be elated!" he blushed yet again and cleared his throat rather loudly. "And—and Harry," he pursed his lips and paused. "And me, of course. I'm happy, as well."

Hermione felt her face get hot and she smiled slightly at Ron. "Yes, I know you are." She grabbed her book and stood up, Ron standing up with her. "I'd better be going, then," she told Ron. "Must send Mum and Dad an owl letting them know that—well, I won't be joining them for the holidays." She nodded at Ron, and after saying their proper goodbyes, Hermione set off to the Owlery, almost skipping. This meant her relationship with Ron was certainly improving. Of course, she was never planning on spending the holidays with her parents—in fact, she had warned them that she might be spending them with her friends, hopeful that they might be kind enough to ask. She couldn't believe she doubted it for a second, but she finally calmed herself with the thought that, yes, Ron—er, her friends thought enough about her to invite her along for the holidays. She was ecstatic, and even thought about skipping the mail and just gliding up into the Gryffindor tower, but changed her mind. It might be nice to send her parents a letter, let them know how she was doing.

The fact was, apart from the whole Ron situation, she wasn't doing too well, indeed. What with the fact Harry was still obsessing over Malfoy (even after the bathroom incident, which still made Hermione boil with anger) and trying to find out what he was up to, and then him beating her at potions with the stupid book by 'the Prince' (and though Hermione did admit that she was rather jealous, she worried more about what type of mind the person that titled himself 'the Half-Blood Prince' really had), then there was those stupid Horcruxes she didn't get to find out more about, and the fact that, slowly, Voldemort was rising again.

And then there was Sirius, of course.

Yeah, apart from having a crush on Ron, she wasn't doing very well.

It seemed to take longer than usual to get to the Owlery, so she paused before entering to catch her breath. She wobbled a bit, but held herself steady, and was about to open the door when she heard voices from the other side.

Straining her ears to listen, she rested her head sideways on the door. Uncharacteristically, she wished she had then some of Fred and George's Extendable Ears to use. Hermione usually didn't like to eavesdrop, but the voices inside were hushed and rushed, and the curiosity (mingled with the happiness) was winning over her.

_I must want those Extendable Ears very badly,_ Hermione thought to herself, for she thought that the voices belonged to none other than Fred and George, if she wasn't mistaken (and, not to be smug about it, she usually wasn't). She had heard their voices so long for six years, and they were indeed identical…the voices were hushed and yet eager, excited.

Maybe if she stepped inside…they couldn't hide, where was there room? And they couldn't Apparate or Dissaparate inside the castle, so the most they could do is to stop talking, right? Plus, she was crazy curious as to whether she was right. Taking a deep breath and taking her face from the door, she opened it quickly.

Indeed, to her surprise, both Fred and George Weasley were standing in the corner, various pieces of parchment in both their hands. They both stopped talking (as Hermione presumed they would) and tried to hide the parchments in their hands, but didn't succeed, instead, when they look round and saw Hermione, relief plastered on both their faces.

"Well, Miss Granger," Fred said, grinning. "It's nice to see you again."

"Absolutely enchanting," George added, and identical grin plastered on his face. Hermione didn't answer, only let her eyes linger on both the red headed twins for a moment. Then they traveled down to the parchments they were holding and narrowed. This didn't make any sense to Hermione. Fred and George weren't in Hogwarts anymore…how on Earth did they manage to get in?

"D'you know, Fred, I think she's gone either deaf or mute," George commented, amusement in his voice. Fred smirked.

"I do suppose something along those lines has happened, m'dear brother," said Fred. "Either that or she's speechless because of our good looks."

This brought Hermione back to her senses, her eyes snapping back to both of their faces. "The only reason I'm not greeting you like old friends," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "Is because of the simple fact that, oh, I dunno, you're in Hogwarts?" Her eyes remained narrowed in suspicion, surveying Fred, then surveying George.

George smiled innocently. "My dear Hermione, how dare you question us? We have, after all, made legend to these grounds, it's not like they can be too reluctant to letting us back in," he said conversationally. He grabbed the parchments in Fred's hands and started studying them, as if they were nothing of importance to Hermione.

"And, it's not like we snuck into the castle," Fred added. "Although that would have been more fun, come to think of it."

Hermione frowned. "You—then how did you—"

"Don't I recall Fred telling you something last year that also came from that bad tempered curiosity of yours, Hermione? What was it you told her, Fred?" George looked expectantly at his brother, and Fred grinned.

" 'Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies.' I suppose you were here for something, were you not? Run along now, no need to linger. This is strictly business between the Weasleys in the room."

But Hermione stood her ground. "Both of you are out of your mind," she hissed. "You shouldn't be here. Not unless you have permission—and, assuming you don't, I would be more than happy to turn you in." This, of course, was untrue, but she wouldn't want the twins to get in trouble, so threatening them to leave was the better thing to do.

Fred smirked. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"

George sighed dramatically. "You've hurt our feelings, Hermione, you really have," he nodded earnestly. "How can you assume we aren't here without permission? Did we not just tell you we're here by request? Does your memory not linger so long?"

Fred shook his head in mock-shock. "Probably hexed herself, the poor girl, what with nobody wanting to practice with her."

Hermione was fuming and walked over to the twins, her wand out. "Don't you—why would you—"

"Put that away, Hermione," George said lazily.

"You wouldn't jinx us." Fred agreed.

Hermione was breathing deeply, but reluctantly put her wand away. "You guys should really get going." She finally said after a long moment of silence between all three of them. Fred shook his head.

"Honestly, Hermione, we're here on Dumbledore's request," she said. Hermione's eyes suddenly widened. Were they really? Why would Dumbledore want Fred and George here? Did Dumbledore have a craving to buy some joke toys himself? Impossible. They had to be lying. And yet, when had Hermione known Fred and George to lie about such things? In reality, they would choose any opportunity to go ahead and brag about it if they really had snuck into the castle.

"Why are you here—on Dumbledore's request?" Hermione asked. Fred and George sighed at the same time.

"We can't tell you, lady," George pressed on.

"And even if we could, why would we?" Fred challenged.

Hermione, shocked, admitted she was hurt. Of course, she was never the closest to the twins, not as much as Harry or Ron (being their brother and all) were, but she had thought they were at least friends. Maybe they wouldn't trust her with everything, but they had been through so much together admittedly, so the fact that they were keen to hide something from her caught her off guard.

"Oh," she said, taking a step back. She tried to keep her face mild, as if what Fred had just said hadn't stung her. "Okay." She turned back on them and started browsing the Owlery and trying to seem as she was trying to find a suitable owl. Stupidly enough, she ignored the fact she had no letter to send yet.

But Fred and George seemed to pick up on her feelings.

"Aw, come on, you know we didn't mean it that way," said Fred.

"Not to offend you or anything—you're a great mate, Hermione, really," George said truthfully.

"But there're just some things that a person has to keep between himself, his twin, and the headmaster." Fred finished.

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, but found their words comforting nevertheless. Knowing that they weren't telling anyone else either was better, but she hid her small smile from them, and continued to pretend to browse. She heard one of them sigh and a ruffling of parchment, and then some unintelligible whispers, and she finally decided it was stupid to pretend any longer, so she gave up. She needed to write a letter first, of course.

She turned back to the twins and grimaced. "Well, good luck with…whatever you're doing," she said lamely, and started walking towards the door.

Before she was even halfway there, though, Fred called her back.

"Hey—wait a minute!"

Hermione froze and turned around, raising an eyebrow in question.

"D'you know, maybe you _can_ be of some use," Fred said, a thoughtful expression taking over his features. George looked the same.

"Perhaps—you're right, Fred," George looked at Hermione. "Dumbledore wanted us to be absolutely sure it would work before presenting it to him, and we might as well test it on one of the most brilliant witches in school, right?"

Hermione blushed at the comment, but looked directly at the twins. "You see, I don't like being talked about when I don't know why you're talking about me." She raised an eyebrow, and both Fred and George grinned at the same time.

"Alright, here's the deal," George started.

"You want to know what we're up to, right?" said Fred.

"So all you have to do—"

"—if you really want to know—"

"—is let us test it (or the object we speak of, more like)—"

"—on you." Fred finished, his eyes gleaming with excitement. Hermione blinked, trying to take in what they had just said. They were, in a way, _bribing_ her. They knew her curiosity was one of her weaknesses, but they also knew that doing the right thing would most probably be what she chose. So they won in both situations, really—she accepted the crazy offer, they got to test whatever it was and perfect it; she didn't accept it, and the curiosity would kill her and they could continue working uninterrupted.

She bit her lip. "I—I wouldn't know, seeing as I have no clue of what 'object' your making or the reason behind the making, for that matter," Hermione said smartly. She almost smirked. They had to let her in, she accepted or not. Maybe she could win anyway!

But Fred rolled his eyes. "That's not going to work out, you see. We have made an oath of secrecy, but we can break it if it involves said object."

"So either you accept at your own risk," continued George. "Or you walk away without ever knowing what the hell we speak of."

They both beamed at Hermione.

Hermione's hopes were crushed. Of course. The twins were too clever—even for her, sometimes—and they wouldn't let her win this battle. She bit her lip and looked at her feet, avoiding their smug faces.

She could accept—after all, when have George and Fred really put her, or anyone else, in danger? Then she would know what all this commotion was about. But then again, she might not like what she was being used _for_. And if her predictions were right, they hadn't ever tested it before—Fred's comment about testing it on a brilliant witch (her ears went red) made her guess that they were actually waiting for the right person to test it on.

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to think rationally. It—it couldn't hurt, could it? She would just be testing something of their invention, maybe even another joke shop material, something small and harmless, she might puke a couple of times, but what did that matter, really? She knew a few counterjinxes that would make it stop (though she never got around to telling them to Fred and George—they wanted to invent it, they could figure it out on their own). So, Hermione thought, what was there really to lose?

Except a body part?

She shuddered. No, she was being ridiculous. The twins wouldn't put her in that type of danger. So she looked up, her eyes narrowed, as if daring them to say something snide to her. "Alright," she said reluctantly. "I'll test—whatever it is you're making. But you have to promise me it won't be dangerous."

Fred and George's grins spread wider. "Of course not!" they said together.

"We promise no physical harm will come to you, our fellow female friend," Fred said happily.

"Wait, no _physical_—?"

"And seeing as the object isn't with us right now," George spoke over her, as if trying to avoid the question he knew was coming. "You'll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend. But no worries, it's not so far away from here. Only one more week, I presume?" He looked at Hermione.

Hermione was rethinking her choice. "Uh, yeah, I think so," she said. For the first time, she didn't sound confident or snide. She was scared, and she knew the reluctant and fearful tone was very audible in her voice. The twins looked amused by it.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione, it'll be fine," George assured her.

"Yeah, you'll soon see that what we're working on is brilliant," Fred said proudly.

"And even _you_ can't argue, seeing as the idea was Dumbledore's and not ours." George reasoned.

With that comment, Hermione visibly relaxed and even managed a small smile. "Alright, then," she sighed. "Where shall I meet you, then?"

Fred pondered. "The Shrieking Shack." He said. Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"But wouldn't people notice that you were going inside one of the most haunted residencies in Hogsmeade?" Hermione reasoned, and the twins smirked.

"You can Apparate, Hermione, you do realize that?" George asked her.

"Yes, _you_ can," Hermione snapped. "I, on the other hand—"

"Are merely a baby," Fred finished, then smiled. "No worries. We'll set up a special entrance for you. You know the store next to it, 'Charming Chocolates'?"

Hermione strained. She couldn't remember any store with that name anywhere near the Shrieking Shack. "Uh, no. Not really."

George nodded. "Well, it's not really _next_ to it,"

"Just hypothetically." Fred said.

Hermione blinked. "Would you mind explaining what that means?"

George rolled his eyes. "Just look for 'Charming Chocolates', then. Once inside, tell the store manager that you have to run an errand for Fred and George Weasley up in the attic."

"He'll agree immediately—he's very fond of us, you see," Fred smirked.

"And he won't notice you won't be back down for a while, Charming Chocolates is always full of third years." George assured her.

"Once in the attic, tap the Muggle painting of lions on the wall with your wand, once to the left, once in the middle, and once to the right," Fred continued.

"Even if non-magical, the painting will open and there will be a door behind it. We'll make sure it's unlocked," George added.

"You might want to light your wand first. It may seem like a long way, but don't worry—you'll get there. Straight into the Shrieking Shack, we mean." Fred finished.

Hermione stared blankly at them. She attempted to speak a couple of times, and finally, strangled words came from her. "How—how is it possible you know this?"

Fred and George smirked.

"Ask us no questions—"

"—and we'll tell you no lies. Now," George told her. "Off you go, then. Remember all we have told you. If you don't show up—"

"—it is automatically assumed you chickened out." Fred smiled at her and waved her off.

Hermione blinked once more and wanted to ask countless questions, but she knew she was going to get no where. Instead, without a thought about what she went up there in the first place, she walked out of the Owlery, closed the door behind her, and rushed back down to the common room. She didn't know why, but she wanted to talk to someone about this—but she couldn't, they had told her they had sworn to secrecy; she had only been and exception because of the fact she was testing the damn thing at all.

But knowing that she wasn't about to 'chicken out', she walked into the common room without a word to anyone and straight to her dormitory. She must have been mental to accept this request…

But then again, 'mental' was something she was getting accustomed to.


	2. Chapter 2

_Alright, I got so many story alerts, and I thank you...but I need feedback as well! So, I am making review limits. Don't worry, they're small ones...six reviews in total to continue...next chapter we're introducing the Marauders...and you'll see soon how Hermione gets stuck there...remember, review! :)_

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_Chapter Two_

HER DREAMS usually were made up of her fears, Hermione thought warily as she woke up with a start once again. It should be reasonable she was dreaming these stupidities, wasn't it?

It had been three days after the encounter with Fred and George, and she hadn't spoken about it to anyone. She had gotten an owl the day before, though, with only the words '_Is the chicken still in the coop?_' written upon the parchment, and Hermione had hastily answered '_Unfortunately._'

Her mind went back to the dream she had just been woken up by. She was running through the Chamber of Secrets, most of it made up by her mind, and she stopped in a door guarded by lions, but they were unmoving; she went through the unlocked door and ended face to face by the strange looking twins that were laughing manically and seizing her, sitting her down in an electric chair…

Then she woke up. Of course, the whole thing was stupid, because for one, how could she ever open the Chamber of Secrets herself? And second, Fred and George did _not_ have pink hair, and they would never seat her in an electric chair…meaning any harm, anyway. She sighed and rubbed her temple. She was being stupid and paranoid; she had accepted the offer, anyway, and soon it was going to be over, and she could go back to pointless, non-frightening dreams.

Well, at least she really hoped so.

She looked around her dormitory and listened to the even breathing of her dorm mates. She closed her eyes, but she knew there was no use in trying to fall back asleep, because really, why would she fall back asleep if she knew that she was only going to have another nightmare? No, instead she sat up in her bed with as much silence as she could muster, and she looked out the window that was conveniently next to her own bed. It looked cold, and if she strained her ears, she could hear the almost silent whooshing of the cold winter wind.

Hermione sighed silently and looked around and tried to calm herself—it was all soon to be over, anyway. For today was the day she finally got the whole situation over with; it was the Hogsmeade weekend and she was going to finally find out what Fred and George's new invention was, and what they wanted to test it on her for.

And if she was lucky, this could be a clue as to what Dumbledore was planning on doing, was planning on teaching Harry. Of course, all the lessons were useful…in Dumbledore's eyes. It was great that they knew more about the younger Voldemort, the one who started all this, how he built his power, but where was he really going with it? Did he really need Harry, or was he using Harry to see if he could get to the bottom of things, to them leave him behind and finish this himself?

No, that wasn't right. For one, Hermione knew that Dumbledore knew that would drive Harry crazy, and second, Dumbledore knew what the prophecy said, Harry was to be the one to kill Voldemort, not himself…so then where was he going with all this.

These thoughts were doing nothing but frustrating Hermione. She was so accustomed to always knowing what was what, the reason behind things, always being _right_, in any case, that no knowing was possibly one of the most annoying and outright stupid feelings she had ever had. Maybe this is how everyone else felt once in a while, she admitted to herself. No one was perfect, after all.

--

Not being able to sleep the whole night afterwards, she was the first one to get up and dress in her dormitory and walk back down to the common room. To her surprise, Harry was already up, staring intently at the fire. Hermione frowned and seated herself in the couch in front of Harry. But Harry didn't seem to notice; Hermione saw his eyes were glazed over, as if his mind was a million miles away.

"Harry?" she asked timidly, for she didn't want to cause Harry any more irritation than he was already feeling. Harry seemed to snap back to reality and looked at her with mild shock and a bit of apprehensiveness.

"Oh," he frowned. "What are you doing up so early?" He looked at Hermione expectantly.

"I should be asking you the same question," she said, and Harry looked away and back to the fire.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered, and Hermione nodded, but stared at his face. He did seem irritated, she noted. And tired, an frustrated…and sad. She could notice his ruefulness. Hermione couldn't believe how easily she could read Harry, then she reminded herself she'd been his best friend for six years now.

She glanced at the fire, then back at Harry. "You know," she said, and he noticed a muscle in his jaw twitched, as if he were trying to avoid looking at her, but his instinct wanted to betray that want. "You've been wanting to know the reason why I'm so…weak," she said slowly. Harry glanced at Hermione, and then back at the fire.

"I thought you were stressed," he said, and Hermione noticed his lips twitch. Hermione laughed softly.

"That is part of it, mind you," she admitted. She then stared at the fire as well. "But…most of it…is because of Sirius."

Hearing the name come out of her lips made her heart wrench even more painfully, and she could tell it did the same to Harry, who flinched. His eyes closed tightly, as if trying to block out the rest of Hermione's words. "I miss him." she whispered.

Harry's eyes opened and he finally looked straight to Hermione, and her heart started racing. His eyes were full of unshed tears, his face was white. Involuntarily, she stood up and walked over to him, and put her arms around him, embracing him. Seeing Harry, crying, weak, was something Hermione hated—seeing her best friend whom she'd always believed to be brave and unbreakable irked her so much that she hated herself for even bringing up Sirius in the first place.

Hermione felt Harry arm tighten around her waist and his silent tears being dropped into her sweater, and she felt weakened. She knew that she loved Harry; Harry was like a brother to her. The brother she'd always wanted, being an only child and all. Through everything, she knew Harry would give anything to save her. And that's what she always wanted; someone to protect her and hold her when she was scared and vise versa.

She let go and sat next to him, her hand still holding his arm as though her might fall. Harry took a shaky breath and looked at her. "I was hoping right now…being stupid, really…" He looked down, but Hermione shook her head.

"It's a vain hope," she said, nodding toward the fireplace. "I've done that a couple of times now. Just waiting, hoping…maybe his head will appear again…" she sighed and shook her head. "It's just so unreal, isn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Very." He agreed, and they left their conversation at that, both of them staring at the fireplace, both of them—despite what Hermione just said—waiting for the head to pop out and start talking to them.

About half an hour later, more people starting coming down the common room, but neither Harry or Hermione let their eyes linger away from the fire. For some reason, both of them looking at it gave Hermione more hope, as if to say she wasn't really crazy, he wasn't really dead…

"What are you guys doing?"

Both Hermione and Harry jumped as they turned back to a suspicious looking Ron. Hermione smiled warily at him and rubbed her eyes, popping her back at how uncomfortable it suddenly felt. Harry was doing the same, but not smiling.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione said kindly, resting her back on the couch. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Ron looked at Hermione for a moment then at Harry. "You disappeared." Hermione, stung that he had ignored her, didn't fail to notice this sounded more like an accusation rather than a comment. Harry seemed to realize this, too, because he looked shocked and affronted.

"Thought you might have gotten used to it by now," he said in a would-be-casual voice. He glanced at Hermione who gave him a tiny shrug and stood up.

"Well, we ought to go downstairs and eat, don't you think?" she said, trying to sound cheerful and that her and Harry hadn't being crying some minutes ago. "I, for one, am starving." Harry gave her a knowing look, and Ron gave her another suspicious look, but both complied anyway, following Hermione out of the common room and out the Great Hall without a word exchanged.

They all sat somewhere in the middle of the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was almost empty, but Hermione was so used to being one of the first ones to breakfast that it didn't bother her much. Once all three of them started eating, Ron seemed more cheerful.

"D'you reckon that could happen?" he asked Harry, after swallowing a mouthful of eggs. He had just finished telling Harry about a dream he had and he thought it was more of a vision that Hermione had decided to tune out.

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "The only visions I've ever had are ones involving Voldemort."

Ron winced at the name and Hermione sighed. "Which you shouldn't be having anymore, anyway," she said pointedly. Harry grinned sheepishly.

"It's hard to 'clear my mind' out of anything these days, truthfully," he said in an offhand sort of tone, for Malfoy had just walked in with Crabbe and Goyle by his side, all three of them muttering; Malfoy looked angry at something.

Hermione exchanged wary looks with Ron, awaiting for Harry to burst out about Malfoy, and sure enough he turned back to them and started muttering. "He seems mad, doesn't he?"

"Oh—well, yes," Hermione admitted. "He does look mad…but these days he always seems stressed out, doesn't he Ron?" she looked at Ron for help.

Ron nodded. "Yeah, he does seem a bit more wary than usual, mate," he told Harry, but Harry didn't seem to hear them.

"Something must have gone wrong with whatever he's trying to fix," he said, speaking more to himself than to herself or Ron. Ron shook his head and Hermione bit her lip.

"Harry, you've already almost killed the guy!" she hissed. "Don't you think it's about time you let him be?" Harry looked at her as though she were some mildy interesting television show.

"Yeah, sure," he said, and he turned back to look at the Slytherin table, looking suspicious. Hermione sent an exasperated look to Ron, as if begging him to say something, but Ron shrugged helplessly. Hermione gritted her teeth. Why was Harry so keen in believing Malfoy was planning something? Or that he was a Death Eater? Didn't he understand that, as much as she loathed Malfoy as well, there was no way Voldemort could make him a death eater at the age of sixteen. Especially not if he was crying in the bathroom, she added to herself.

"Er—so, Hermione," Ron said loudly, making her and Harry jump. Hermione looked expectantly at Ron. "Where are you planning on going to Hogsmeade?" he said. Harry seemed to give up on Malfoy and he looked at Hermione as well.

Oh, she wasn't good under pressure. She felt herself get red and started playing with her barely touched food, and clearing her throat. "Uh, I was…planning on going to…the post office," she lied. "Just to have a look around." She glanced up in time to see Ron and Harry exchange puzzled looks, then looked back to her food.

"You've been in there dozens of times," Ron said accusingly. "Why do you need to look again?"

Hermione shrugged. "I like it." She said simply.

"Hermione…" Harry said slowly. "Is there something you're not telling us?"

Hermione felt her ears get redder, but she shook her head fervently. "No! I…o-okay…I was planning on meeting someone there. No big deal." She tried to shrug of the subject. When none of them replied, she looked up.

Ron looked furious. His mouth was opening and closing, as if trying to find the right words to tell her off. Harry, on the other hand, though his expression wary and glancing at Ron, merely seemed curious. "Who are you meeting?" he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Hermione frowned. "That—that doesn't concern either of you." She said stubbornly, and Ron snorted.

"I thought we were your friends?" Ron spat, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't act thirteen, Ron. There are some things a girl keeps to herself." Hermione said. Ron was getting redder and seemed to be losing his voice more often. Harry looked at Hermione, as if begging her to stop talking before Ron had a spasm. "And besides," she said. "It's for educational purposes only." At least, she supposed.

Ron's face seemed to drain back to its original color, and Harry seemed to be fighting a smile. "Oh," Ron said, sounding calmer than he had before. "You mean—like, a study date?" Hermione noticed how he had difficulty with the word 'date', but she didn't mention this.

"Something like that." Hermione stood up and looked at both of them. "Then I suppose I'll see you back here? It might take some time," she added at their confused faces. Ron seemed to be put out, but Harry smiled slightly at Hermione and bid her farewell. Hermione, still feeling red in the face, scurried out of the now-full Great Hall and into her haven, the library, until it was time to go.

--

Looking for 'Charming Chocolates' was easier than Hermione had expected. She wondered why she had never been there before, why she hadn't noticed it. She hated the fact that it was looking gloomier than before, Hogsmeade, but kept her mind busy wondering what Fred and George's invention was. As she entered, she noticed George hadn't been lying; the inside of the store was filled with short third years beaming up at all the chocolate type foods that there was, talking animatedly with their friends, that there was barely and room to walk.

Muttering 'excuse me's and 'pardon me's, she finally got to the counter. Behind it was a woman, smiling at everyone who glanced at her, and seeming to make small talk with every person who bought something.

But that wasn't right, Hermione noted. Fred and George had said a man…she walked up to the lady behind the counter. The lady looked surprised, but smiled at her anyway. "How can I help you, sweetheart?" she asked, sounding hearty. Hermione bit her lip.

"Uh, hi. Is the—the owner here?" she asked, guessing the man Fred and George spoke of was, indeed, the owner. The lady frowned, but her smile never faltered.

"No, he felt under the weather today," she said. "But I can help you if you need anything." She said, with a sort of edge to her voice. Hermione didn't like going off plan, but she had to try anyway…

"Er," she cleared her throat. "Well, you see…I'm here to run an errand for Fred and George Weasley…they're friends of the owner, you see, and they needed me to get them something from the attic…" Hermione knew it was a no go before she trailed off. The lady chuckled and started shaking her head as she spoke.

"That's not possible, the attic's not open to the public, sweetie, and seeing as Mr. Ross isn't here, I can't let you in," she said, sounding sickly sweet. "I don't even know who those two boys you speak of are."

"They're—they aren't boys, they're of age," she almost snarled. "They're eighteen and the run Weasley Wizard Wheezes, do you know that shop? Over at Diagon Alley?" she asked hopefully.

A third year passing by laughed. "I love that shop!" he told his friend, and they kept walking. It was as if on cue. The lady pursed her lips.

"Ah, them two," she shook her head, her smile finally faltering. "I don't think so, those crazy b—men," she corrected herself, for Hermione sent her a look filled with daggers.

"Just—I won't be long, please?" she said. What was it this lady called the owner? "Mr. Ross won't mind, I assure you, and if he does, I'll take all the blame." She promised. The lady sighed.

"Right, but be warned I'll be waiting for you down here young lady," she said, but she still seemed unconvinced. Hermione promised her she'd be back, and, purposely not adding the 'soon', ran up the stairs behind the lady.

She halted at a door and opened it, entered the room and closed the door, leaving the noise downstairs behind her. She looked around and was surprised to find this didn't seem like an attic at all, this seemed more like a bedroom without a bed. There were boxes stacked everywhere, sure, but they were set to where they just looked like desks and what not, and there was a radio on top of one of the boxes.

Hermione decided not to linger too long, in case the lady came back and checked on her. She looked around and found the Muggle lion painting, and did what Fred had instructed her to do. Hermione stared astonished as the painting only relocated itself to the left, revealing a small door hovering near—not on—the wall.

Hesitantly, she opened the door to find that it was indeed unlocked and left it open for a few more seconds, just standing outside. The door seemed to lead into a dark passageway, but it wasn't connected to the wall…Hermione was never let down by the magic world. She finally stepped inside the door. She had some trouble closing it, as if something were holding it open, and in a moment she closed it a little too loudly and easily, as if the door had heard her struggling thoughts. She bit her lip and looked behind her.

She saw nothing at all but darkness. Her heart beating wildly, she suddenly wished she had brought someone along with her. Grabbing her wand out of her robes, she muttered, "_Lumos_." and in an instant, she saw the passageway was indeed damp and made of lumpy rocks. With a gulp, she started running forward.

There were many twists and turned, and at times she could swear she heard footsteps behind her, but convinced herself they were the echo of her own footsteps. She kept running and running for what seemed hours; she imagined it would have been worse if she walked the way, of course. She was about to give up and turn back when she saw—to her great relief—a door, much like the one back at the shop, hovering just a few inches from the wall.

"Finally," she muttered to herself, and this time didn't hesitate. She opened the door and walked inside, leaving it open behind her.

What she entered wasn't a room, she noted. She was inside the Whomping Willow, and she side. She still had some way to go. She turned back and closed the door, and this time walked to wherever the tree bark took her. Hermione was getting annoyed by her own panting and made a note of trying to kill the twins when she got to the Shrieking Shack.

It only took a few minutes, though, and she finally found the same door she and Harry had gone through their third year. She didn't hesitate this time either and just opened the door, and relief splattered her features as she found Fred and George muttering to each other.

They both looked up and identical grins spread along their faces. "Hermione!" they both greeted, and Fred ran up to her, grabbed her arm, and led her and George up the stairs to the same room Hermione, Harry and Ron had found out about the truth of—her heart gave a jump—Sirius, Lupin and Peter.

Being back into the room made her throat close up, but she was determined not to think about that anymore. Instead, she looked over at George, who was frowning at the entrance door. Fred, though, was looking through his bag.

"Did you fancy the trip, Hermione?" Fred asked in a conversational tone, and Hermione scoffed.

"Don't I just wish," she sighed, but shook her head. "Next time, we're doing side along Apparation." She warned, and Fred laughed.

"If there is a next time," he reminded her. "If we test it on you and it all goes well, we're done." He grinned and pulled a small, round object out of his bag, and George finally looked from the door to Fred.

"Is it alright?" George asked anxiously, and Fred nodded.

"It's perfectly fine, don't worry," he muttered to his brother, and then he looked back at Hermione. "Okay, young'un," Fred cleared his throat, and both the pair of them changed their expressions into business type ones. "Here's the inside scoop."

"We have been working on this for three months exactly," George informed her. "Dumbledore owled us three months prior and said that he had something urgent to ask of us. Of course, Fred and I, always up for a challenge, wrote back immediately and told him to let us know where and when to meet him."

"He told us to meet him here, in fact," Fred continued. "He told us we could Apparate, but not the first time. We needed to see it first then we could Apparate whenever we liked. Then he let us know about the secret passageway that he had magically created for our use only," Fred frowned. "I supposed we never asked him why he didn't get rid of it, though…"

"Not that it matters, anyway, for it got you here today," George nodded at Hermione. "Anyway, once we met with Dumbledore, he explained that this would qualify as work for the Order," George shrugged. "And why not? We told him whatever he needed, all he had to do was tell us what he wanted."

"And so he did," Fred took over. "He said that he needed an invention, not a joke-worthy one, but a powerful one that could be very useful to all this You-Know-Who business…and he told us he needed an object to help him go back to whatever time he wanted to in Hogwarts, choose the person he wanted to follow, and feel and think everything the person was feeling and thinking."

"This sounded impossible," George nodded. "But we were up to it. And it took us a mere three months, bless us," George grinned. "It was tricky, see, it had to be sort of like a Pensieve, and a Time Turner—something Dumbledore told us about—combined. Something which would take you unseen anywhere in time without the need of a memory taken from someone's head."

"But of course, only in Hogwarts grounds," Fred said, sounding sad about the thought. "It'd have taken years if you wanted the whole world, at that." He sighed deeply.

"So that's what this is," George said, pointing at the circular object in Fred's hands. "You don't notice it's powerful at all, it looks like an oversized Snitch, and you can carry it with you anywhere," he said proudly.

Fred looked at the object proudly. "We call it the Time Pensieve, for obvious reasons. And you, Hermione," Fred looked at her, beaming. "Are the lucky witch that gets to test it for us."

Hermione blinked. This, all of this, sounded impossible…and yet she knew both Fred and George to make extraordinary magic, all they really had to do was find out how to make a Time-Turner and a Pensieve and complicate things…and she was excited…just imagine what she could find out if she went to Hogwarts back a few years, see things people don't understand, feel what other were feeling…

Hermione smiled up at the twins. "It sounds amazingly complicated," she admitted, and the twins laughed…but to Hermione, it sounded like more than three laughs…she looked around, but then shook her head and told herself she was being stupid, and looked back at the twins. "Are you sure it's safe? I wouldn't be seen?"

"No possible way," George assured her. "It would be kind of Apparating really, you just tell the Time Pensieve what year you want to go, and the name of the person you would like to follow (full name, if you don't mind), and it takes you there."

"You have to be quick to spot them, though," Fred warned her.

Hermione cocked her head to the side. "And why's that?" she asked Fred, and she saw the twins exchange looks.

"Ah—no reason, no reason at all," Fred said.

"At least, no major one. Just spot the person quickly and you'll be fine." George said, but glanced at Fred quickly before looking back to Hermione.

"Now, when you want to get back," Fred continued. "All you have to do is say to the Time Pensieve 'Take me back', and you'll be back in no time. We promise," Fred added at the uneasy look overtaking Hermione's features.

"Right," Hermione sighed. "Alright, let me think…I can choose wherever I want to go?" she asked the twins, and they both nodded eagerly.

"'S long as it's in Hogwarts," Fred added and Hermione nodded, frowning as she thought who she wanted to visit.

Her first thought was Sirius…of course she wanted to see him at least one more time before the whole mess last year had happened…but then he thought back to Harry, and how he was crying in the fireplace, and how he really needed a parental figure…and so she thought about James Potter. She could go back and see him, see his habits…tell Harry everything about him, maybe cheer him up a bit…maybe be able to draw him, know what he did, how he felt…

Yes, she though. She was going to go visit James Potter. Plus, she added to herself reasonably. She would probably also see Sirius, seeing as he was Harry's dad's best mate. She did the math in the back of her mind, and concluded that maybe she could visit them somewhere in the end of their fifth year.

"Alright," Hermione smiled at the twins. "I've got where I want to go."

"Brilliant!" the twins said together. Fred carefully placed the Time Pensieve into Hermione's hands. "Don't say anything to it but the time and the person," Fred warned her.

George smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Alright, give it a go!" he said excitedly.

Hermione took a deep breath. "February 1976, James Potter."

She thought she heard a gasp from behind her and a whoosh, and Fred and George shout some angry remarks, but she barely registered this as she felt her whole body twist and turn—she tried to scream but couldn't find her voice and she was falling, falling, falling…

And she stopped falling, her feet hitting the soft grass on the ground. Hermione panted and looked around…and saw, to her astonishment, a much brighter, newer…

She was back in Hogwarts, in the year 1976.


	3. Chapter 3

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_Chapter Three_

SHE COULDN'T look around without feeling awed. Hermione grinned as she took in her own school, looking exactly the same but just so different. For one, the atmosphere was so much lighter (well, considering the fact that in both times they were at war) and happier. She kept looking around, forgetting what Fred and George had warned her about taking too long to find James, and noticed a group of three girls laughing as if there were no other care in the world, and another group of (surely) first year boys were whispering rapidly, but it didn't seem urgent; it seemed mischievous.

The ground wasn't filled with snow; on the contrary, it was a bright shade of green and various plants were growing out of it. Hermione took a moment or two to gawk at them, then she turned her head upwards to look at the sky, which seemed bright and blue. It was definitely spring time, if she was calculating correctly (and, come on, she usually always was).

She breathed in and took in the scenery for a few minutes, before something in the back of her brain snapped. _James_.

She cursed under her breath and started to look around frantically, until finally, she saw someone who looked just like Harry; only his eyes were a soft hazel and his nose wasn't as pointed…

Her heart leapt as she ran towards him quickly, and it took a moment before she saw that he wasn't standing alone. Her throat tightened at the sight of a young, handsome boy grinning and talking animatedly to what she presumed to be James. And her heart raced even faster than before as she saw a tired look young man with hazel nut colored hair, smiling slightly as he heard what his friends were saying; and last, she stopped dead on her tracks and her fists clenched, her eyes were flashing and her stomach swirling as she saw one more character standing close by the group of young boys she was fond of.

Peter was easily the smallest of the four, his hair short as he was plump and his eyes small and watery, and at that moment they shone with excitement and mischief.

Hermione could feel her nails digging deeper into her skin the tighter she clenched her fists, but at that moment she didn't care of she drew blood or not. Her fingers twitched as if they were to reach her wand, but she didn't act upon it; she could do no damage to them and they could do no damage to her, it was the rule of time travel and of a pensieve.

She unclenched her fists and walked towards them. Instinctively, she hid behind a tree, but then she realized she didn't need to, she was in a memory of sorts. She hesitated, but ended up showing herself. As expected, none of them noticed her. It took a moment before she could catch on to the conversation.

"…and it's not like they suspect anything, right?" James was saying, looking pointedly at Peter.

Peter shook his head earnestly. "I have said nothing." He promised, and Sirius rolled his eyes before talking to Remus.

"It's not like we'll do it in front of anyone, Moony," he said exasperatedly. "Come one, we've worked for years on this, you can't just back out!" Sirius sounded exasperated.

Remus frowned. "But—"

"Alright," James intervened. "That's it. I'm not going to take any more of your paranoia. This is it. We're turning ourselves into you know what, and we're not going to regret it, right?" he looked at Sirius and Peter, who both nodded, Sirius with a determined face, Peter with a rather frightened one.

Remus still looked doubtful. "I'll admit it sounds inviting," he started slowly. "Not being alone those times. But…if Dumbledore catches you…"

Sirius snorted. "Dumbledore won't catch us," he said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Think about it. He hasn't even caught on to the whole 'invisibility cloak' business."

Remus grimaced as if he didn't need to be reminded of such insolent thought. "If there was any way to prevent this…"

Hermione snorted to herself. "You can't do anything about it, it's going to happen anyway."

So quickly she wouldn't have known it happened had they not spoken, all four Marauders turned her way. Sirius was scowling, Remus looked shocked, James looked peeved, and Peter look frightened. "What are you standing there for?" Sirius called out.

Hermione frowned and turned to look behind her, expecting to see someone there. She was shocked to find no one there, so she turned curiously back to the Marauders. To her surprise, they were now all glaring at her direction…was she standing on top of someone without knowing so? She moved to the side to prove this, but nothing had happened. Her brain had already made the connection, but she refused to believe it.

Hermione's heart raced and she begged and begged this wasn't true, not at all. She looked around frantically, hoping someone would emerge suddenly, but nothing or nobody came out.

"What's all that looking around for?" Sirius barked, standing up. "I asked you a question!"

Hermione blinked. This was crazy. Fred and George told her there was no possible way this could happen. And yet, she had just intervened in a Marauders' argument.

Somewhere in 1976.

If this wasn't a problem, Hermione wasn't sure what was.

--

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

"This was top secret information!"

The Weasley twins glared at the two people who had just appeared out of thin air, it seemed. One of the characters looked annoyed, the other shocked.

"What'd you do that for?" Ron asked his best friend next to him. "So much for secrecy."

"Did she say what I think she said?" Harry asked, his awed face on the twins. The twins, though, were angry.

"We asked you a question!" Fred snarled. "You two gits—"

"We didn't know what you were going to do! We were just following Hermione," Ron said defensively. "She didn't say it was a secret."

"Did she say otherwise?" George asked, visibly as angry as Fred.

"Well, no, but—"

"Excuse me!" Harry interrupted. "If you three are done—_did she just go visit my father_?" Harry looked at Fred and George, his annoyance now coming to level with theirs. Fred and George exchanged looks, then looked back at Harry.

"From what we heard, pretty much," George said.

"Or have you—apart from invisible—gone deaf, too?" Fred snarled, sitting on the ragged bed.

"Come, now, we could have left—" Ron started, but George cut him off.

"But you didn't!"

"Well, we wanted to!"

"That doesn't matter! You still heard the classified information that was supposed to be between the three visible people in the room!" Fred snarled. "What are we supposed to say to Dumbledore?"

"He doesn't need to find out!" Ron gaped at his brothers. "Since when are you so keen in following the rules or being honest?"

"Since Dumbledore asked us to do this job personally," though still obviously annoyed, there was a note of pride in Fred's voice.

"Hey!" Harry made all three Weasleys look back at him after jumping. "When is Hermione going to be back?" he asked. Though trying to sound casual, he knew this wasn't to work. He felt a rush of affection for Hermione, as he knew she had done this for him. And the fact that she was going to see his dad, alive, carefree, was such an inviting thought that he wished he could find out everything now.

Fred blinked. "Well, she should be back by now," he said. "If she doesn't want to stay too long."

"I just hope she found him quick, like we told her," George said importantly.

"Why?" Ron asked, not bothering to hide the suspicion in his voice.

"What's it to you?" barked George. "You heard enough already."

Ron scowled. "She's my best friend, George. I want to know if she's in no immediate danger." He raised an eyebrow.

Fred sighed. "Well, you've heard this much," he muttered, and looked at George expectantly.

"If, by any chance, she fails to follow instructions—"

"—which, come on, when does she?" Fred said.

"Then, the first time she speaks out loud, she will become her own person."

"Making her stay at the certain time and place forever."

"With our Time Pensieve," George added gloomily.

Ron gaped at his brothers. "But Hermione's such a know-it-all; she'll choose the first opportunity to correct anyone even if they can't hear her!"

"Yes, that's true, but really, if she found him quick enough she won't have that problem," Fred rolled his eyes.

Harry frowned. "Are you guys sure…why didn't you perfect the flaw before letting Hermione use it?"

"It could be used as a warning…if people aren't stupid enough to gape at everything they see, then they should have no problem," George assured them.

But Harry's insides squirmed. He knew he, himself, the second time he ever visited a pensieve, gaped at everything he saw like an idiot. If Hermione was as awed as he was…he gulped. "And nothing happens to the person if they don't speak?" he asked the twins.

They both shook their heads.

Well, if Hermione didn't talk at all…then there was no reason for her not to come home, right?

Ron looked at Harry with a worried expression, and Harry knew he was thinking the exact same thing.

--

"Well?" all the Marauders were on their feet now, looking at Hermione. Hermione gulped.

"You—you can see me?" she asked, hoping (and this was her last chance to do so) that she was mistaken. And, to her dismay, all four of them look puzzled.

"Of course we can see you, what are you—" Sirius started, but then he turned to look at Peter running away. "OI! You bloody coward!" Sirius cursed under his breath, but James put a hand to his shoulder.

"He won't say anything…" he eyed Hermione. "Did you hear what that was about?" he raised an eyebrow.

Hermione stuttered. Lord, what could she say? Should she tell them the truth? No, they'd probably hex her, thinking this was some sort of joke…tell them she'd heard nothing? But her comment had obviously given her away there…maybe she could say she had, but promise not to say anything?...and to what extent did she believe they would buy that promise?

Hermione blinked and did the only thing her mind was anxious to do; she ran for it.

"HEY!" she heard James call her, but she kept running and running. Dumbledore, she needed to see Dumbledore. If there was one person who wouldn't think she'd lost her mind or had made this up to save her life, it would be her headmaster. She knew she had to get there quick, however; or she might be followed by one of the boys she'd left behind…

In her worry, she turned her head to see if anyone was following her, but to her relief, she saw no one. She decided to slow down only a bit, for she was running out of breath and if she didn't stop she was sure to take much longer to tell Dumbledore what happened if she needed to catch so much breath…

At the moment she decided to stop running, she bumped into something hard.

"Ow," someone hissed, and she looked up, petrified.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione moaned. "I'm in a hurry—"

"I noticed," but the person was smiling when Hermione looked up. "It's okay, really."

A girl that looked about her age was standing there, with flaming red hair and big, warm, green eyes…eyes that strangely reminded her of Harry's, or was that because she was so afraid of never turning back to where she belonged? No, these eyes looked exactly like Harry's…could it be…?

"I—I am sorry," Hermione muttered. Forgetting momentarily where she was running to, she wondered if she could get a name out of this girl. If her prediction was right, then she could get back to Harry and tell him all about _both_ his parents, not just his dad, and…

But that was _if_ she got back.

The girl smiled. "It's really okay, uh…" she raised her eyebrows. "What's your name?"

Good, Hermione thought. This was one way of getting her name. "Her—" she paused. Did she want to risk telling this girl her name? But then again, how could it hurt? It was only a first name, after all, there could be a million girls with the same name… "Hermione," she stated.

The girl grinned. "Like the Shakespeare princess?" she asked. Hermione gaped. How was it possible that she knew about Shakespeare? But then…if this was who she thought she was…she would very obviously know…

"Uh, I'm not really sure, actually," Hermione answered truthfully. "I never asked."

The girl chuckled. "Well, Hermione, I'm Lily," Hermione's heart swelled. Her predictions were right! "And, I'm sorry, but as a prefect, I have to beg you to slow down." Lily grinned and waved goodbye to Hermione, walking past her and outside.

Hermione smiled to herself. Wait until she told Harry! And then it hit her…Harry. Time. Not her time.

_Dumbledore._

"Good Lord," she muttered to herself, and she started walking (in a quick pace) to Dumbledore's office. She knew where she was going; strangely, this was like instinct to her. Somehow, Hermione thought that Dumbledore might already know she's here—in fact, that very thought was what compelled her to slow down. After all, there was nothing Dumbledore couldn't fix, right?

But…what if he couldn't? What other choice did she have?

She looked down at her hands and was surprised at the fact she still held the Time Pensieve. She grasped it tightly. She had one more chance to make this right herself. Maybe—hopefully—this would fix everything. Just a few, well chosen words. Nothing at all to worry about.

Looking around, Hermione hid behind a knight statue and looked down at the object in her hands. Taking a deep breath, she brought the Time Pensieve close to her lips.

"Take me back," she muttered, and she shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the impact.

But nothing happened. Without opening her eyes, Hermione muttered the words again. She felt nothing; well, she felt incredibly stupid, but that was on another note. She felt nothing _physically_, which was what she needed to feel to get back. Maybe it didn't work the same when returning to your own time?

She opened her eyes slowly. Disappointment swelled over her. It hadn't worked. She was still in Hogwarts, in the same place she hid. Hermione took a few deep breaths and walked out from behind the statue, this time with the sole purpose of looking for Dumbledore, when a quiet voice made her jump.

"People will think you're up to something, hiding there," the voice said, and Hermione turned around, her heart racing, Standing in front of her was her younger ex-professor, smiling slightly at the sight of her flustered. Hermione blushed.

"I—I just needed to…to…take my minds off some things," she muttered, and was not oblivious to the fact that that sounded like a total lie (which, fairly, it was).

Remus smiled at her. "Or maybe you're hiding from someone?" he raised an eyebrow, and Hermione shook her head frantically.

"I—no, of course not!" she widened her eyes in a way she hoped looked innocent. "Well—wait, how did you know—weren't you—did you follow me?" she asked in disbelief. Why hadn't she seen him?

"No, not exactly," Remus's smile widened by a centimeter. "My friends were arguing on which one of them would come to rip your throat out, so I decided to come. For your own personal safety," looking at the skeptical look on Hermione's face, Remus added, "It's true. And as a prefect, I do have communication with my equals," he nodded.

Right, Hermione thought lazily. Lily.

"Uh, oh! Yes, you—you're absolutely right. So, I'll be going then, and—" Hermione trailed off seeing the amused expression on Remus's face.

"I just want to know if you're going to go report us?" he raised an eyebrow. Hermione bit her lip.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She stated evasively.

Remus nodded. "Okay, you don't know. So you won't tell?" he persisted, and for once, Hermione noticed a humiliated and anxious tone in his voice. Humiliation stood out the most—Hermione felt a rush of affection for her old professor, and she smiled kindly and her voice softened.

"Not a soul," she said, and with a last smile, she walked back to her destination. She only glanced back, and she saw a puzzled Lupin standing where she had left him. She sighed and looked back. This time, she needed to get to Dumbledore. And she really needed to stop getting sidetracked.

But for Merlin's sake, she was Hermione Granger. What made her think she could get sidetracked?

She smiled sadly as she realized her situation, and it was obvious that these were the damned consequences for getting sidetracked.

After a while, she finally found the familiar entrance. She halted. Damn it, she didn't know the password. Now what was she supposed to do?

Harry had mentioned something about Dumbledore's passwords always being silly. But somehow, the only thing silly she could picture was herself shouting stupid things at the statues. She bit her lip and looked around, trying to see if anyone could help her. She needed help, and now that she wanted to find someone, no one showed up.

She groaned almost silently and paced forth and back. "Okay," she said to herself. "Okay. No need to panic. Just—" she looked at the statues. "You won't mind if I guess, would you?"

Well, she did feel like an idiot now. The statues remained still. She sighed and kept walking back and forth. How was she supposed to do this?

"Ah, there you are."

Hermione jumped for what seemed the millionth time that day and looked back. To her surprise (and intense relief), Dumbledore stood smiling kindly down at her.

"I believe we haven't met, young lady?" he asked kindly, and Hermione shook her head slowly. Dumbledore smiled. "I didn't think so. If you would like to step into my office? Forgive me for being so haste," he added. "I just don't know who to trust in times like these."


End file.
